


Castle on a Cloud

by saigaday



Series: Dreamwalker Saga [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:06:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saigaday/pseuds/saigaday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world where magic exists but is hidden in secret at the risk of being persecuted. Everywhere Enjolras turns are people telling him what he can't do, most infuriating of all is Grantaire. All he wants is to live in a world where everyone is free,but for now all he has is his dreams. That is until he does something stupid that shakes up the magic world for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a series of silly fantasies which I eventually used the les mis fandom to storyboard into an actually adventure. Unnecessarily complicated but I thought is was a fun concept at least.

There is a castle on a cloud  
I like to go there in my sleep  
Aren't any floors for me to sweep  
Not in my castle on a cloud

Jehan

It began with Enjolras. It always began with Enjolras. Ever since Grantaire had followed him to one of their meetings all he had dreamt about was their golden leader.

Tonight was no different. There stood Enjolras in a halo of light; even more godly than the last time. Wings as pure as drifted snow framed his heavenly form drawing focus to his face of fine cut marble. Every feature was carved to perfection; the flushness of his lips, the ferocity of his brow and the brilliant glow of his eyes aflame. As he walked through the dream world, his shining presence set the world on fire. Houses burned away, trees crackled, and the very ground he stepped on was scorched to the bedrock. 

Jehan had to chuckle at the irony of the scene. If Enjolras could see this world Grantaire had created where he freely radiated light and fire he would perhaps have a different view of their resident cynic. 

And there Grantaire was, carefully following in the other's footsteps shielding his eyes from the light.

"Even in your dreams you shy away from him." Jehan called out.

Grantaire looked up, slightly startled before his face darkened and he stormed over. "Mind your own business dreamwalker. Must you remind my dreams of my weakness? Cannot I find refuge in my sleep?"

Jehan smiled and plucked a rose from the bouquet he was holding. "Just talk to him."

"Never he would burn me. I have drunk too much; liquor courses through my veins. I am far too flammable to approach him. One look from those eyes would set me ablaze."

"Silly R, your heart already carries his fire. This is your dream; you make your reality in this world as well as in the world of waking eyes. Move past your cowardice. If you can't allow yourself to achieve your dreams here, then what good is dreaming in the first place?"

Grantaire lowered his head and his voice became faint. "To bask in his warmth is enough..."

"You're hopeless." Jehan threw the rose at Grantaire's feet and stormed out, "Just talk to him you fool."

Jehan then found himself in a room full of people. Music was blaring some trashy remix that clashed with his already burgeoning headache. There was smoke and a flashy light show and bodies everywhere, grinding to the beat. There was only one place he could be: Courfeyrac.

Lo and behold the aforementioned party god was lounging in his throne making out with two people at once while others striped in front of him. 

Suddenly everything stopped and all signs of the party dissipated leaving just the two of them. "To what do I owe the honour to have the dreamwalker grace my dreams?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Your scent is unmistakable dreamwalker. I can smell your flowers in even the sweatiest and sexiest of occasions."

"Oh..." A small blush rose upon his cheeks.

"So are you just going on a late night stroll or is something the matter?"

"It's Grantaire! He is trapped in a fantasy and takes no steps do anything about it. It is just so frustrating!" 

"Wait, I'm confused. You're mad at him for dreaming. Isn't that like what you want?" 

"But he's not dreaming. Dreaming is supposed to be free and unrestricted, where the most unfathomable impossibilities can appear before your eyes at a whims notice. It's all about hope. Grantaire won't let himself hope, he won't let himself dream. He just repeats the same fantasy over and over. He is trapped in his own doubt and darkness, when he could have whatever he wanted if he just reached out and took it. It is not a dream but a sad and twisted nightmare."

Courfeyrac was quiet for a bit. A solemn pensive expression over his face. Jehan didn't like it. Courfeyrac was supposed to be bright and cheery and ridiculous like his parties. Then he spoke.

"Well can you blame him? Grantaire's never been the most hopeful person. And with good reason; he grew up poor with a broken family. It's hard to have hope when the world restricts us. Why dream if the world is never going to let it happen? Wouldn't that just lead to disappointment? Is it really that bad for him to not get his hopes up?"

Jehan was flabbergasted. "I can't believe you just said that. Of course it's worth it to dream. In our dreams anything is possible. So even in our darkest hours we can experience light and love. Why live if you're going to deny yourself any happiness?"

"But dreams are restricted. No matter how hard you hope and believe, there are some things that not even dreams can fix."

"Wh..e...You.. I. You've always been ridiculous but this is beyond..." Jehan was so angry. He struggled to make sense of his feelings. "I don't even know why I came here. Clearly you don't want a world of dreams or hope or whatever..." 

And with that Jehan was gone. Courfeyrac bent down and picked up the lily that Jehan had dropped in his flurry. "It was nice to see you too..." He said sadly.

Jehan stormed through his friends' dreams, leaving flowers as he went. Courfeyrac's words played in his mind, confusing him. But the bright and whimsical worlds that his friends created helped soothe him. 

Feuilly dreamt of building a flying machine that took him soaring through the air.

Combeferre dreamt of a massive library covered wall to wall with books, meticulously organized from A to Z.

Éponine dreamt about being a child lost in the rain. A little boy found her and they ended up dancing from puddle to puddle.

Bahorel dreamt of a battle between giants. He was in the middle of it smashing mountains with his fists. Jehan left a sunflower which to his delight grew into a giant and joined in the brawl.

Joly dreamt of lying in a field with another boy and girl. Above them flew three butterflies: one a shimmering Red Lacewing; one with wings of glass and legs of gold; and one that glowed with a purple haze that was not of this world. Jehan left a tulip and one by one the butterflies landed on its yellow petals.

Enjolras dreamt of fire. But not the grand flames that Jehan had expected. Rather a small campfire, warm and comforting. All around it their friends were basking in its glow. Enjolras sat by the fire, poking it with a stick. He had the softest smile that Jehan had ever seen grace their leader's features. When Jehan approached Enjolras looked up beaming. "Oh Jehan you made it. Did you have a nice walk?"

"Good evening Enjolras." Jehan replied slowly, caught off guard by the other's friendly behaviour. "It was nice I guess..."

"Hmmm that's good. Marshmallow?" Enjolras offered him a bag. 

"Uh sure.." Jehan tentatively took a marshmallow and the stick Enjolras had been playing with. 

They sat together in silence by the fire, the only noise being the crackling of the burning wood. 

"I have to say," Jehan turned to Enjolras, "This isn't what I was expecting you to dream about."

Enjolras was staring longingly into the flames. "Yeah....It's nice though."

"It sure is." 

 

Joly

"...And our light will shine so bright that we will burn all who bring darkness. We will burn them all until the earth is free!" Enjolras shouted passionately finishing his speech and leaving the room breathless. That is except for Grantaire.

"What exactly does that have to do with the social spatial rights of transgendered youth of colour?" He stated flatly, stopping their leader in his tracks and bringing red to his cheeks.

Joly smiled to himself. Once again Enjolras had gotten carried away in his speech, taking the rest of the room with him. And once again Grantaire had caught him, not that the other would ever admit it. This was a game Joly had witnessed play out countless times before.

"W..Well everything!" Enjolras at last retorted, "If we don't fight for equality for everyone than we're not really fighting for equality, are we?"

"Putting the past forty minutes of this structured debate on transgendered social spatial rights aside, since you clearly keep forgetting that we are not in a revolution and therefore keep insisting on shifting the debate from its actual topic to some rhetorical speech I'm guessing you stole from the latest chapter you've read of Robespierre's biography; I'm going to say no."

Enjolras just glared at him confused, "No, what?"

"Yes, 'no'. We are not fighting for equality, because equality doesn't exist."

That last statement sent a shockwave through the room. Enjolras was practically steaming with anger. Actually, given that this is Enjolras he probably was.

"Oh boy, he did not just say that." Courfeyrac whispered in Joly's ear. "Pull up the popcorn; this is going to get interesting."

"I think you mean long. They're going to go on for hours. We might as well not be here."

"And miss Enjolras' face when he's flustered? Never! He's about to speak. This is gonna be good!"

"Of course equality exists." Enjolras was visibly struggling to give a tempered response, "We may not be experiencing it presently but there definitely is a conceptual world where everyone is treated the same no matter who they are. As long as we keep striving towards that concept we can create a more equal world."

"But if we are treating everyone the same, where is there room for diversity? That's the problem with equality; to treat everyone equally we mask their difference."

"Diversity is at the root of equality. We fight because presently people who are different are afforded significantly less, if any, power than others because of their difference. Equality is not about making people the same, but providing people with the same opportunities to choose their own destiny. The same chance at freedom."

"How does one achieve such a state? That is the problem with freedom, when one person acts their own destiny they infringe upon the ability of others to do likewise. We do not live in isolation. Not only is our freedom constantly limited but we are constantly limiting the freedom of the world around us. How do you give everyone the same chance at freedom when giving one person that freedom limits the opportunities of others?"

"You're getting too caught up in the current limitations. Equality is an ideal. The point of an ideal is not to have that ideal realized instantly, as nice as that would seem. It's a dream that we constantly strive for, constantly work for. Every day we take steps towards making that dream a reality. While at the same time we continuously refine that dream, making it ever clearer, ever brighter. Why do you let your cloud of uncertainty keep you from moving in any direction? Why do you refuse to dream Grantaire?"

"Because we don't live in a world of magic and fantasy Apollo! You can dream as much as you freaking want, you can be like Jehan and spend your whole life dreaming and yet you'll never get anywhere because the real world isn't a dream it's complicated and it's painful and dark." Grantaire looked like he was actually getting upset over this, something that was uncommon in their dour cynic. "We are just a group of kids in a mess of a world. What can we do against such persecution? If we cling to these flights of fantasy, wishing for some magic change that will never happen, the world will just leave us disappointed and broken..like it always does."

For a brief second Joly thought that was the end of it. However as usual Enjolras couldn't help himself and lunged back into one of his righteous attacks. Joly had had enough though and tapped Courfeyrac's shoulder in defeat before heading out into the warm summer evening.

"No magic eh." Joly chuckled to himself at the bus stop, where he bent down to pick up a leaf, "Man if he only knew." He unfolded his fist, and where there had once been a leaf there was now a butterfly, which unfurled its wings before slowly flying away.

For despite Grantaire's critiques, magic did exist. Well at least for some people it did. Only a small minority of people really, were born with the ability to manipulate some aspect of the world. The rest lived in blissful ignorance.

It's not like you would just walk down the street and people would be shooting fire out of their hands or levitating off the ground. At least not anymore. Not since the Bagne came around and had their way with things. Now most of the world was free of magic and the lands that still had mages living in them were strictly regulated so that magic was practically invisible. These days the only places where magic was practiced 'freely' were the six great cities that comprised the realm of magic. It was all part of an agreement made with the Bagne; the infamous Salem Concordat. The Bagne would cease their culling of all things magic if the mages remained hidden. This had resulted in the magic families of prestige living freely in the cities and everyone else scrounging around in the shadows of 'normal' life.

Joly's mother had left the magic realm to marry his non-magic father and Joly had therefore been raised with 'normies', a demeaning term for those like his father. When his magical abilities had revealed themselves his grandmother had summoned him back to the Green City for formal instruction. However after 'the incident' Joly was fed up with the cities and their bullshit and fled back to the non-magic world to study medicine. He may not be able to use his magic here but at least as a doctor he would be able to help people heal. 

He then ran into Enjolras' group, a collection of local mages who were also hiding in the non-magic realm. It was nice to be around people who were going through the same situation. They might not be able to practice magic but at least they could support each other and unwind.

The only problem was Grantaire; their resident cynic and the only normie in the group. Jehan had dragged him out on one of the few occasions he was awake claiming he had found him in a dream (they were actually roommates) and they had decided to keep him around. Because of the Salem Concordat, Grantaire could know nothing about magic. The Watchers in the Blue City would know, and someone would come and be awful and pretentious and probably punish them and put a stop to their little club.

So they decided to put up a front. They may be a group of mages but to everyone else and most importantly to Grantaire they were a ragtag group of young people who would gather in the Café Musain to drink and debate. Some (Enjolras) might say it's not worth it for them to further hide themselves just for Grantaire. But for everyone else he was good company, a great drinker and the only one who could put Enjolras in his place. 

Joly thought it was good for them to have him there. He helped normalize them, and kept them from getting lost in the fantasy of it all like those pricks in the magic realm had. It was also pretty hilarious to watch Grantaire butt heads with Enjolras when he was largely ignorant to most of what the others were referring to. And despite his ignorance, his arguments were often right on the money.

No matter how much the others clung to their dreams of magic, Joly knew it was for naught. While magic may be a part of them, they lived in the real world as Grantaire would say, there was no point in clinging to a life that has largely been extinct for the past 300 years. 

Finally the bus arrived interrupting his thoughts. Their group was a nice community but he had a histology exam next week and there were several sets of slides he still had to work through. Magic is great but life goes on and reality was calling.

 

Enjolras

Grantaire had been infuriating this evening. Not that that was a new phenomenon; even after being around for a year he still managed to get under Enjolras' skin. He was just so stubborn and cynical. What did he know anyways? He was normal. And yet when he spoke his words carried an alarming weight and understanding. But then it was all wrong; everything he said was laced with doubt and critique. If this was normal then was there really even a possibility for magic to be free. The Bagne seem justified in a world as dark and cynical as Grantaire's. For how would the rest of world respond to magic if they can't even get past their uncertainty to allow themselves to dream?

"Rawrgg!" He shouted into the evening air. Why did Grantaire make everything so complicated? Why couldn't he just be free? It was the question that had chased him his whole life. All he wanted was to escape the limitations thrusted upon him. 

He could feel the energy pulsing through his body. The beautiful tantalizing energy that defined him and his world. He needed to let it out. He needed to express his inner fire. Luckily he was almost at the abandoned quarry, his secret hideaway. But his magic was bubbling inside of him, dying to get out. He didn't have much time so he broke out into a sprint.

Rounding the bend, he let the energy flow out of him sending him he rocketing off the cliff. A burst of lightning crackled out of him filling the night sky with radiant light. 

Light, it always started with light. Then fire. The flame that was constantly burning in his mind now made into a raging inferno from the oppression, the injustice, from the debates, from Grantaire. He felt it sear through his fingers, dying to escape its bodily prison. But this was his fire, it warmed him, comforted him and drove him. He would be its master. 

To his left was the abandoned backhoe, severely charred from his prior adventures here. He stared it down imagining it as the oppressor: a Bagne officer, the gallows from the witch trials, the rainbow thrones. He saw in that hunk of burnt metal the faces of all those who limited his freedom and then let the inferno loose.

A mighty stream of white hot flames shot from his hands, bombarding his imagined enemies with a burning wall of energy. Pure energy. He flipped around sending more light, more fire, more energy flowing into the air. He delighted as they danced before him. It was on these nights, in the abandoned quarry, where he was at last able to release all the energy that was constantly building inside him.

And it was wonderful. Grantaire said it himself; if magic was real than anything was possible. And magic was real. In the light and the heat was so much possibility. If only he could make Grantaire see that.

He slowly spun around throwing fireballs at targets one by one as he shouted out his frustrations.

"The fucking Bagne!" An old tree burst into flames.

"And the stupid fucking magic elite!" He hit some loose rocks sending them crashing down the side of the quarry.

"All hiding in their elitist little fortresses while people suffer out here in the real world!" The flames were getting so hot that the rocks were beginning to melt on impact.

"And most of all that fucking Salem Concordat!" He started brewing a big flaming ball above his head. Twisting tongues of fire with streams of lighting into a great pillar of energy. "That little piece of paper that binds together all the awfulness of all of them. I wish it never existed!"

Finally he released the pillar, flinging it with all of his might over his shoulder and towards..."Grantaire!"

What the fuck was he doing here? And now he was going to be charred to death. Enjolras panicked and quickly shouted "NO!" with all the force he could muster sending a sonic wave careening into the pillar.

They exploded on impact sending Grantaire flying into the cliff face and filling the sky with so much light and sound that half the city was probably awake by now.

"Aw fuck!" he cried as he ran over to Grantaire. "Please be okay you idiot. What were you even doing here in the first place? Frick get up Grantaire! Where's Joly when you need him?"

Grantaire was fairly bruised and out of it. There was some movement and Enjolras swore he heard Grantaire mutter under his breath, "So that's why your speeches are always about fire."

"Grantaire, Oh my god, are you okay?"

Finally he looked up with a dazed smile on his face. "I always knew you were heavenly Apollo. Shining with light of the sun."

He wasn't making much sense to Enjolras which was concerning but at least he was conscious and talking. They had to move quick as there is no way someone didn't see that explosion. 

"Can you get up Grantaire? We need to leave here now it's not safe." He reached out his hand. Grantaire took it and slowly stood up.

"Whatever you say Apollo. Someone's got some s'plaining to do..."

"Sure fine whatever. But not now. We need to go quickly. This way." With Grantaire's arm over his shoulder he made towards the exit.

"Don't go yet Mr. Lamarque." Enjolras turned to see a woman materialize before them out of a purple haze. "He's right; you've got some s'plaining to do."

Enjolras' breath hitched. This is what he had been afraid of. The Watchers must have sent an enforcer, which meant that Grantaire was in grave danger. He gathered courage and tried to make his voice sound confident. Perhaps he could talk their way out of this one.

"I don't see why I have to explain anything to a lowly purple mage. Now if you'll excuse me, my comrade and I are leaving."

"Not so fast." A gremlin appeared before them. Damnit! She had already begun summoning creatures. "You may be some hoity aristocrat from Red but even you are not above the Salem Concordat. That man is a normie and therefore cannot know about magic."

"So what's the big deal if he knows? Why should I have to hide my power from anyone? What do I possibly have to fear? For so long us mages have hid in the shadows restricting our ability to be truly free. I see no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to do magic wherever I want and I see no reason why those without magic should suffer because of it. I am far more powerful than anything he could dream up and I'm far more powerful than you."

He threw Grantaire out of the way before striking the gremlin with a blast of fire leaving nothing but a puddle of purple goo.

Behind him the purple mage was busy summoning more beasts to fight alongside her. A couple more gremlins appeared in a puff a smoke and behind them an ogre.

The gremlins charged at Enjolras and he blocked their assault with a fall of flames. He then struck them down with a stream of lightning.

The ogre then swung at him with the charred remains of the backhoe. He had to admit this purple mage must be fairly powerful to summon such a large creature. He launched himself into the air and then rained a barrage of fire upon the beast.

When the smoke had lifted the ogre was unharmed and swung once more with its metal club just missing where Enjolras had been. 'Oh yeah,' Enjolras remembered as he ran, 'ogres are relatively heat resistant. But they're also relatively blind.'

Enjolras took a deep breath then released his energy in the form of a blinding light. The ogre stumbled, swinging madly against the light. Enjolras used the moment to send a sonic shout at the beast, causing it to fall over. He then lunged at its chest beating it with the hottest flames he could muster. The ogre may have been relatively heat resistant but even it couldn't withstand a direct hit from Enjolras' flame and it soon dissolved into purple ooze.

"Light then fire." he muttered to himself, grinning, before turning to face the purple mage.

She had now summoned a blade beast which had Grantaire wrapped in his claws. "Alright fine. You may be stronger than me." she said menacingly "But he isn't."

Enjolras lunged forward hands ablaze. But he wasn't quick enough; the blade beast had plunged its claws into Grantaire's chest and ripped out his heart. Enjolras smashed into the creature in a fit of pure rage as he watched Grantaire collapse to the ground, the life flickering out of his ice blue eyes. He lay there cold and unresponsive, gaping up at Enjolras like he had seen an angel.

"What have you done?!" He screamed at the enforcer sending her flying back. 

"You did this to yourself Mr. Lamarque," she said as she picked herself up, "You practiced magic outside our borders and a normie saw. He had to die or else the Salem Concordat would be broken. You know this and yet you practiced magic anyway. His death is on your hands. You should be more careful in the future as I'm sure the Blue City will be keeping a closer watch on you from now on."

"Let them watch this!" Enjolras shot at her. She made to summon another creature but he was too quick and had her wrists in a firm grip before she could do anything. A vicious heat shot from his hands, disintegrating the woman in seconds before she could even make to scream. All that remained was a puddle of ash, much like the ones left by the creatures she had summoned before.

Enjolras crouched over Grantaire's body. It was so pale in the moonlight, almost as white as the very bones that lay beneath the flesh. Grantaire looked so much more peaceful there on the ground. Enjolras realized he had rarely seen the man outside of a debate or a bottle. He noticed deep creases of sorrow etching across the other's brow, mapping a history that was unknown to him but seemed fraught with darkness and depression. Then there were the eyes, once pouring with a life and warmth that set his own inner fire alight. Now he was alone and colder than he had ever been since perhaps the day his mother died and he had fled the magic realm for good.

"Well that's not something you see every day." A gruff voice spoke from the shadow. But Enjolras was too tired from grief to move from Grantaire's side. He just knelt there and cried as the footsteps drew closer.


	2. Chapter 2

Grantaire

"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"

Grantaire looked around to get a bearing on his surroundings. This was a difficult task as thick wisps of fog rolled all around him. He struggled to stand up as the ground was an odd fluffy texture that often gave way beneath him. A stretch of fog parted revealing the roof of some building. Grantaire made towards it in the hope that it would give him a better idea of where he was or at least a more solid place to stand. As he neared the building, it became clear that it was the tip of tower atop a much larger structure. He stepped up onto what at last appeared to be rock and pulled himself out of the fog.

Before him rose a majestic white castle and in front of it was a girl, who smiled and waved brightly in his direction. She was wearing a billowy white dress and had hair as golden as Enjolras'; an Artemis for his Apollo.

She ran over to him, encompassing him in a big hug that nearly sent him falling back into the fog. "Welcome! It's so good to see you." She exclaimed warmly before her expression turned sad, "Although, given the circumstances I guess it's not a good thing that we're meeting."

'The circumstances?' Grantaire combed though his memories, How did he even get here? What was he even doing before this? 

He had been stumbling back from the bar and then he had seen a flash of light fill the night sky. It has been so bright and intense it reminded him of the angel in his dreams. So he followed it into the quarry and there was his Apollo, surrounded by light. A giant burning sun held above his head. Flames climbed up his arms and sparks shot from his eyes. And then he moved flinging the pillar of flame towards Grantaire. As the fire neared to consume it was as if he was staring into the mouth of heaven. 

And then he heard frantic talking and Enjolras was over him and then there was a witch and demons or something and a battle. It was all a little fuzzy; but the way his god fought was a sight to behold. The intensity that radiated from the man as he incinerated all in his way was like nothing Grantaire had ever seen or even imagined. How foolish he had been to stand in front of that flaming deity, to debate with Apollo incarnate.

He was so caught up in the beauty of it all that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. That is until something cold plunged into his chest and all the intensity evaporated from Enjolras' face. He shuddered just to remember it.

"Oh Sorry! I mean my apologies, um I'm just not used to visitors and I got so excited..um I mean I'm sorry you've just been through a lot and here I go making you all glum." She took his hand and lead him towards the castle gates, "Why don't we go inside. You want a drink? I can make tea?"

He was still shaking off the cloud of confusion as he stumbled after her. "Uh you got anything stronger?"

"Oh sure! Will bourbon do? I've got a couple bottles of Wild Turkey in the cellars."

Grantaire was not expecting that response but he'll take what he can get. "Well let's get this party started then."

The girl pushed open the front gates and stepped into a cavernous front hall. Grantaire tried to follow suit but was blocked by an invisible force field.

"A little help Ma'am, you're castle won't let me in."

"Oh dear. This hasn't happened before." She rushed over and dragged him smack into the force field.

"Not helping. Don't you have like magic or something in the afterlife?" The thought of magic made him think of Enjolras. He swallowed hard.

"This isn't the afterlife. Well not really. Its...." She seemed visible frustrated, scratching her head and pacing and the like. "Hmm.. Now this doesn't make sense at all. Why are you here if you can't enter?"

"I would like to know that myself."

She stared at him for a long while before asking, "Do you dream?"

"Of course I dream." He said almost offended. His dreams were really all he had; the one place where he could bask in Enjolras' light and escape the darkness of life.

"Okay..." She didn't seem convinced which said a lot about the impression he gave off. "But do you believe?"

"Believe? What are you going at?" Grantaire suddenly felt attacked and it became difficult to breathe as if the air had been knocked out of him. "Is this some kind of faith crap? Why do I have to believe in anything?"

"Please you must believe. The world is based on belief."

"No the world is based on reality. You know, the cold hard facts of life that keep everyone in their place. The facts that state that magic doesn't exist; that force fields don't exist; and that stupid floating castles aren't possible. God you're just like him! I don't know what the fuck happened or what fucking drugs I'm on but I've had enough of this shit. How do I get down from here?" And he stormed off.

"So that's it," the girl muttered behind him, "He doesn't believe. But then to be here means that...Wait up!" She called chasing after him before he succumbed to the fog.

"You can't leave." She said grabbing him once again, "Someone brought you here for a reason. I think they're trying to protect you."

"Well that's a waste of their time. Leave me alone ghost girl. Can't I be dead or crazy in peace?" 

The fog began to get thicker and darker as it wrapped around their feet. Grantaire's chest began to hurt again and he clutched it in agony as the pain rocked through his body. Blood began to seep through his shirt and dripped heavily upon the clouds beneath, staining them.

"Oh my god! What's going on?" The girl screamed, "That does not look natural."

Black tendrils of smoke reached out from the fog and latched on to him, sinking into his flesh and mixing with his blood. He ripped off his shirt to see a gaping wound where his heart would have been. A black ooze was pooling in the wound sending toxic shockwaves through him.

"This is not right at all! Someone else is interfering. But that shouldn't be possible! Something very bad is happening. You must fight it. You must believe!"

The ground beneath Grantaire began to give way as the shadow consumed his once bright surroundings. He could hardly make out the shining white parapets of the castle anymore and the girl's golden face was disappearing into the smoky haze.

Between the waves of pain he was able to hear her shout once more, "Believe!"

"I could really use that bourbon now," he grimaced as the darkness at last overtook him.

 

Grantaire awoke tangled in a mess blankets in a warm soft bed. He opened his eyes to sunlight blaring in his eyes. He didn't think he was hungover but he felt equally as shitty and groaned against the blinding light. He needed to remember to shut that window permanently.

After acclimatizing to the world of the waking a little more he ventured to open his eyes again and this time was greeted by another sun.

"Oh fuck Apollo!" He squealed before covering his mouth and jolting out of bed. 

Why was Enjolras sleeping in his bed? He blinked and got a better look at his surroundings. Correction, what was he doing in Enjolras' bed, in Enjolras' clothes. He frantically looked for his clothes but couldn't find them. 

Enjolras grunted. Fuck he had to get out of here before the other awoke. That's one thing he couldn't deal with right now, if ever. He grabbed his shoes and hightailed it out of there. 

Scurrying down the sidewalk he whipped his phone out and dialed Éponine immediately. 

It rang three times before, "WHAT. THE FUCK. DO YOU WANT?!"

"Something really big just happened. Like emergency level! My house fifteen minutes bring liquor."

He hung up before she could respond, and picked up the pace to home. He needed to get out of these clothes before he had an aneurism. 

Flinging the door open he was surprised to see Jehan drinking tea in the kitchen.

"You're awake?" He said trying to catch his breath. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I needed a break. Artistic differences."

"With your dreams?"

"Sure something like that."

"I feel you bro. My dreams last night were fucked up. There was this castle floating on like clouds or something, with this chick inside." Jehan's ears perked up to that. "Oh and before that there was this huge fight between Apollo and this witch who was summoning demons. Enjolras was like shooting fire and lighting at them and it was beautiful."

"Oh really?" Jehan had gone from interested to really interested and was sitting on the edge of his seat with a wry expression. Grantaire was slightly suspicious of Jehan's eager behaviour but then again his roommate was ridiculously attached to stories of fantasy. That's why he spent all day lying in bed and dreaming. Grantaire's mind shot back to the fight.

"Yeah, he was all fierce and hot and... Oh fuck I'm still wearing his clothes."

"What!" Jehan shot up, knocking his chair over.

"Um well I kind of woke up in Enjolras' bed wearing his PJ's." Jehan looked very concerned, "Yeah I know weird eh? I have no idea how I got there. I must have been on some kind of drug or something. Did Enjolras drug me? Ha! Now that's a thought."

"Yeah it is..." Jehan crossed towards him, staring a little too intently. The whole situation was too farcical, and Grantaire was quickly descending into hysterics. 

"Ha! I slept beside him the whole night! Or at least as far as I know. I could have breathed the same air as him, or touched him. Did he fucking change me! How else did I get in these clothes? Holy Fuck no wonder I dreamt about him all night. Man that fight was so real. I could feel his fire as it blew past me; the intensity of its heat. But that was probably just his body next to mine."

His mind stretched back to the dream. A warm glow wrapped around him causing his heart to flutter but instead a sharp stab of pain brought him back to reality and he was left clutching his chest.

"I could feel the claws rip through my skin. The pain was so real. I've never died in a dream before."

By now Jehan was in front of him, his arm on his shoulder. "Are you sure you were dreaming?"

"What do you mean? Of course it was a dream. There was fire, and lightning, and monsters, and flying castles. The stuff of fantasy."

"And if it wasn't?" Jehan rested his hand over his heart. The stinging pain grew stronger. "If all of it was real?"

"Then I shouldn't be alive right now."

Jehan slowly rolled up his shirt. In any other circumstance this would have been strange or at least awkward. But Grantaire's mind was shutting down so he lifted his arms, allowing Jehan to strip Enjolras' shirt off of him. 

His chest was severely cut up and where his heart should have been was a twisted black vortex.

"Well that's new." Jehan hovered his fingers over the swirling void.

"Jehan what the fuck is going on?" Grantaire panicked. "Why is there a black hole in my chest? And why is Enjolras fighting monsters with fire? And why did I wake up in Enjolras' bed?!"

By now he was shouting.

"Well I can't help you with the last one. You'll need to talk to Enjolras about that. But what you saw last night is real. Enjolras is a mage, and so I am, and many of our friends for that matter. Magic is real R."

Grantaire willed himself not to believe it but the more Jehan talked the more the pieces fell together. The weird behaviours of his friends made a little more sense. As did many of the arguments they often brought up. How did he not notice sooner?

"It appears that last night you witnessed Enjolras practicing magic. I'm guessing that some mage came to punish him which resulted in a fight and then somehow this." Jehan gestured towards Grantaire's chest.

The events from the night before replayed with greater clarity. It was real then. When he watched Enjolras dance surrounded by flame and light it had made sense. But then when he was at the castle surrounded by clouds his mind had fogged up. As he talked to the girl with golden hair everything had become so much more confusing and he couldn't separate dream from reality.

"So wait, you're saying magic is real and everyone knows but me. Until now I guess." The fact that magic exists still didn't entirely click with him. "When did this happen? Did you guys all roll around in nuclear waste or is there something more I'm missing?"

Jehan smiled for the first time that morning. "Here let me show you."

He pressed his fingers to Grantaire's forehead and all of sudden Grantaire found himself transported to a black plain. He could still here Jehan's voice and as his roommate spoke the scene began to change.

"In the beginning was the void. A boundless expanse of darkness that consumed all into a sea of nothingness. All was the void and the void stretched across all time and space.

But then the void had a dream. (A flash of white erupted from the darkness and peppered the scene in mist.)

With this dream came the possibility for many things. 

The possibility for energy to get the universe moving. (Sparks of electricity began to jump between the mist filling the void with light and scattering the remaining darkness. One of these sparks began to grow until it was a giant ball of fire reigning warmth upon the scene.)

The possibility for matter to fill the void.(The mist began to pour rain and soon rivers of water started pooling into oceans. A gust of wind blew over them, creating waves and scattering the mist. In its place sprung mountains which surrounded the water transforming the emptiness into mighty landscapes.)

And the possibility for laws to bind these all together. (The scene began to orient itself into recognizable features. The mountains collided into each other and the oceans surrounded them. the sun rose into the sky and began to orbit the rest of them flooding the scene with periodic bursts of light and dark.)

Thus the three types of primal magic were born.  
Red Magic of energy and motion; light, heat and sound  
Yellow Magic of mater; earth, water and air  
Blue Magic of law; space and time

With these in place the universe was given shape. Over time these forces collided, filling world with many forms.

Forms of life. (Plants sprouted from the earth and fish from the sea. Eventually the whole scene was covered in rich forests and mighty plains, dotted with every creature imaginable.)

Forms of civilization. (Buildings began to appear, clinging together in the forms of cities. From their walls spewed objects of powerful industry and intricate gadgetry.) 

Forms of imagination. (A flaming pentagram began being etched into the mountainside opening a portal to a world unknown. From its mouth strutted beings of unrecognizable feature and incomparable colour.)

Thus the three types of technical magic was born.  
Green Magic of life and death; growth, health and emotion  
Orange Magic of civilization; construction, invention and technology  
Purple Magic of imagination and creativity; worlds unreal and unknown

The remnants of the void led to Black Magic.  
While the remnants of the dream gave rise to White Magic.

As long as we have existed humans have been manipulating these forces as mages. However, this has lead to much persecution and sacrifice. Seeking refuge elite mages of the three primal and the three technical schools of magic created mighty citadels in a realm of reality separated from this one. But things have grown political and complicated and magic has become more focused on order and tradition than on creation.

"Jesus Christ R! If your emergency is that you're having sexy times with Jehan I need not have come."

Reality snapped back into focus and Grantaire turned to see Éponine with a bottle of whiskey scowling at him and Jehan who he realized was standing very close to his bare chest.

"Oh Ep!" Grantaire started not sure where to begin, "It's not what it looks like. I ..uh ..I slept with Enjolras."

"What?!"

"I mean I didn't sleep with him per se but I like woke up in his bed in his clothes and all. I don't even know how I got there."

"No shut up about Enjolras! What the fuck happened to your chest?" She reached towards it but then quickly pulled back, opting instead to grab a bowl of corn pops. She threw one at the vortex and it got sucked inside. "Is that black magic?"

"Yeah I believe so." Jehan piped in.

"Why does R have a ball of black magic in his chest?"

"That is a question for Enjolras." Jehan said and he and Éponine shared a long concerned look. Something more was going on here and Grantaire was getting fed up with being confused.

"Hey a little help over here. All I know right now is that Enjolras was practicing some kind of magic and then got in a fight with another mage and then I got stabbed in the chest and woke up in his bed in his clothes with a black hole in my chest."

Éponine finally looked up at his face. "Wait a sec if all this is true then that means he knows."

"Yes I know. Thanks a lot asshole. I'm guessing you're a mage too. I can't believe you guys were all lying to me. Man I must have looked like such a fool this whole time."

"Not all of the time." She giggled finally giving him a hug, "Oh R I wanted to tell you so bad. But we had to keep it a secret. There are serious consequences as I'm guessing you've witnessed."

"So I've seen." He winced at the soft pain still thrumming from his wound. "Now that I'm apparently in the know can you fill me in some more. All I know so far is that Enjolras shoots fire like a motherfucker. Jehan used his Jedi mind tricks to show me some really abstract creation story but I could use a slightly more concrete answer. Like for starters do you shoot fireballs or is that just an Enjolras thing."

"No that's definitely an Enjolras thing. He's a red mage. Jehan explained what that is right?" They both nodded, "I'm a yellow mage, but I specialize in water manipulation."

"Water eh? No wonder you cry so much. Do you stand around in ponds and go for long walks in the rain as well?"

"Shut up you doofus. I don't practice a lot, you know, cause it's illegal."

"Oh right... but you can like shoot water around and stuff like Enjolras was doing."

"Yeah kind of. Though I was never formally trained like he was. I've picked up a thing or two in the underground though."

"Cool." It was cool, fantastical really. And it made him feel like he was six again, playing pretend in his basement. "Jehan you said you were a mage too."

"Yes I'm a white mage. We're not as common as the other streams of magic."

"That's cause they do all that spiritual mumbo jumbo." Éponine blurted elbowing Jehan in the gut.

"Yes we practice spiritual manipulation but I focus on dreams."

"Well now that makes sense. No wonder you're always asleep."

"He often visits our dreams you know. The little creeper."

"Oh so that is you. Mr. Dreamwalker."

Jehan was getting flustered. "Yes well I think I need to rest. Tonight's meeting will sure be interesting. Keep an eye on him till then Éponine will you."

"Aye aye captain. Does this mean you're coming tonight? What a treat."

"Yes, I feel that given the situation it is imperative that we all be there tonight."

There was something more to Jehan's gaze but Grantaire didn't have the energy to chase it. When his roommate had disappeared back into his room. Éponine grabbed his arm and gave him a naughty smile.

"So you slept with Enjolras eh? What did he smell like?"

"I dunno ashy...like a campfire. You know all warm and cozy and...Crap I'm still wearing his Pj's. Come on woman help me get these pants off." And with that they rushed off to his bedroom.

 

 

Courfeyrac

The Musain was still pretty empty by the time most of them had arrived. Enjolras had sent out a mass text saying tonight's meeting was urgent and Éponine had been sending him teasing messages all day about some big secret she had. Clearly something had gone down between Enjolras and Grantaire and everyone was excited to find out what exactly.

"I bet they fucked." Bahorel said as he flicked his wrist sending the ball flying into the end zone. It was a mistake to have challenged Bahorel to foosball but there was time to kill as Enjolras and Grantaire had yet to arrive.

"But why? They were practically screaming at each other when they had left last night." He was working his goalie hard trying to sneak the ball past Bahorel's offensive line.

"Exactly angry sex."

"I don't think so." Feuilly spoke up leaning against the wall, beer in hand. "Enjolras is way to principled to just hook up with someone."

"Yeah isn't he super chaste." Joly piped in, "In all this time we've known him I've never heard of him hooking up with anyone, let alone Grantaire."

"He has to get his fix somehow," Bahorel Grunted blocking Courfeyrac's latest attempt with a quick thrust. "Ain't that right Courf? No one is truly celibate."

"If anyone is I'd put my money on Enjolras." Feuilly said, "He's too focussed on his causes. No one who debates the representation of mental illness for six hours straight has room in their mind for sex."

"Maybe they've already been hooking up for weeks, and tonight is their big reveal." Everyone stared at him dumbfounded before giving a resounding "No!" 

"Think about it," Courfeyrac continued, "Enjolras called this meeting right? And we know it has to something to do with Grantaire. So what else could it be?"

This really seemed to strike a chord with the room and Courfeyrac used the opportunity to sneak a shot past Bahorel's defences and into the net. "Score! Get your head in the game son."

"Oh my God what if they have been sleeping together for weeks." Bahorel was pretty hung up on this.

"Well if they have been and out themselves tonight, there goes our entertainment. It will be all cutesy couple stuff from now on."

"With those two? No way." Feuilly interjected, "They couldn't stop fighting if it would bring about world peace."

"I for one think it's a good thing." said Joly "I'm tired of the tension between them. Maybe now we'll have a chance at peace."

"They are not hooking up." Combeferre at last joined into the conversation, "Enjolras said this meeting is urgent. There is no way he would have called such a meeting for Grantaire. He would never mix his personal life with these meetings."

"What personal life?" Bahorel jabbed and the rest laughed.

"Well then what do you think tonight's meeting is about?" Courfeyrac asked Combeferre.

"I do not know, we will have to wait for them to answer that."

The door burst open revealing a beaming Éponine followed by a worried looking Grantaire who was being pushed in by a concerned looking Jehan. Courfeyrac knew it must be serious if Jehan had dragged himself out of bed for it.

"Hey guys guess what?" Éponine shouted.

"He knows." Combeferre muttered to his left.

"What do you mean he knows?" Courfeyrac asked, "Oh fuck no..." 

Before he could finish that sentence. Éponine blurted "Grantaire knows about us."

They was a group gasp before Jehan spoke "This is probably a conversation had in the back room."

"My thoughts exactly." Combeferre said, "Let's go everyone."

Once they were all settled in the room Éponine continued, "So like I was saying Grantaire knows about us. He knows about magic."

"Finally!" Courfeyrac couldn't help himself from yelling.

"How?" Combeferre inquired.

"Well," Grantaire at last addressed the room, "I kind of witnessed Enjolras practicing magic last night."

"But then why are you here?" Combeferre continued his interrogation. "No offense, but surely someone saw this. The law states that normies cannot know about magic. An enforcer would have intervened."

"They did. There was a fight." The room was deathly quiet. They knew Enjolras was intense but this was serious. Courfeyrac started anxiously staring at the door for Enjolras to arrive. Grantaire continued, "Look I'm not entirely sure what all happened but I'm alive, well sort of, and I now know about magic. Éponine and Jehan spent all day explaining things to me so I kind of get it now. Like I know that you're all mages and you guys meet to talk about magic but since I've been here you have been pretending to talk about like social issues and stuff and I'm sorry that I kept coming back and forcing you guys to hide and lie."

When Grantaire had finished babbling everyone looked like they still had a million questions especially Combeferre. Courfeyrac quickly interrupted him before he could hound Grantaire anymore.

"Wow Grantaire sounds like you've had a pretty eventful twenty-four hours. So how about we skip the questions and go get a drink?"

"Well I've already had a couple but I wouldn't say no to one more."

"That's the Grantaire I know and love. Come on let's get some beer flowing in you. I wouldn't want your blood alcohol levels to get lower than the legal limit." He put his arm around Grantaire and slinked off towards the bar giving one last look to Combeferre to keep him from following them.

They sat down at the bar and Courfeyrac ordered a pitcher. He searched within Grantaire to get an idea of his emotional well being and was hit by a wave of pain. He covered it with a smile and began filling Grantaire's pint.

"Been a rough little bit eh? How you holding out?"

Grantaire took a long swig and began to warm up a bit. "Well you know I'm surviving. So I think I'm doing pretty good for someone whose world has been flipped around."

"Well that's good." Courfeyrac smiled, doing his best to radiate peace and happiness.

"Yeah, you know it actually makes sense. As completely ridiculous as it seems, it just feels right. I'm more upset about not noticing sooner. I feel like such an idiot. I must have looked ridiculous, especially in those debates."

"Well sometimes yes. But most of your points were surprisingly accurate. And you were always great company. Why else do you think we kept you around? You're definitely more of a party than Enjolras."

"But here you guys were trying to express yourselves and I was forcing you to hide. That must have been so frustrating."

"You would think, but with the way magic is policed we can't really practice it anyways. We're just a gang of misfits and outcasts looking for a place to belong. A task that was actually made easier with you showing us how to hold our liquor and other normal stuff. We may be magic but with the laws in place we are no different than you."

"The Salem Concordat right?"

"Yep, that son of a bitch. I see the others filled you in on the basics."

"They told me a thing or two, but not everything. For example what type of mage are you?"

"Guess."

"Uh..red I suppose. You're pretty energetic."

"Good try but I'm actually a green mage. Emotional manipulation is my thing."

"Is that why I'm all giddy right now. Or is that the beer talking."

"Probably a little bit of both. You're just lucky you're not my type, my powers come in handy when trying to get people in the sac."

"I thought you couldn't practice in public."

"Meh as long as they don't know who cares."

"So what about the others."

"Well Joly is a green mage like me, but he specializes in healing; comes from a long line of healers in fact. Bahorel is a yellow mage; pretty much just smashes anything he can get his hands on. Feuilly is an orange mage but he's never really had access to proper technomancy so he developed his own style out of the fans he builds. It's pretty cool if you can coax him into showing you. And Combeferre is a blue mage. It's never been quite clear what he can do but he knows everything so watch out."

"Seems like we have quite a collection here. Thanks for the drinks by the way. Well we should probably go back and face the shit show."

As they approached the door they could hear a large commotion. Enjolras had arrived and was ablaze, literally. He was shouting something about revolution and he seemed even more serious than usually if that was possible. When he saw Grantaire he calmed slightly but he had riled up the others that the discussion kept going. To no surprise Bahorel and Feuilly had jumped on the cause while Joly and Combeferre were more skeptical. Courfeyrac sighed, it would take a lot of effort for him to calm everyone down. Effort that he was not interested in expending right now. He passed Grantaire off to Éponine who quickly began filling him in and headed over to Jehan who was standing at the back.

"Evening beautiful."

"Good evening, Courf."

"It's good to see you out. It's been a while. I've missed your presence."

"Have you now? Don't you get enough of me in your dreams."

"Never enough." he winked, "Dreams don't come close to the real thing."

"Don't mock me. I'm not one of your, floozies who you can manipulate to your bidding."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm trying to connect with you."

"They're the same thing to you. Everyone is just a pawn for your brothel."

"What would you know about it? You spend so much time in a fantasy world you've lost sight of what's real."

"Dreams are real. I'm a white mage. They're my reality."

"That's only because you afraid to interact with the real world."

"I'm here aren't I?"

"Are you here really?"

"I don't have time for this. I need to talk to Enjolras. Go work your magic on someone more worth your time."

Jehan stormed off and practically ripped Enjolras from his podium, flinging him over his shoulder before strutting out of the bar. You can say a lot about Jehan, but despite his delicate appearance he is nothing if not strong. Enjolras didn't stand a chance. And neither did Courfeyrac.

"You are worth my time." Courfeyrac said but Jehan was long gone, "Why do you make everything so difficult?" 

He sighed and turned to the squabbling mess than Enjolras had left in his wake. It was going to be a rough night.

 

 

Combeferre

Courfeyrac had rushed off with Grantaire before he could ask any of the billion questions on the tip of his tongue. So he turned to the only people left with any answers.

"So Éponine care to explain?"

"Well..." She tried to formulate a response, Jehan elbowed her in the side. "It's still pretty unclear."

"Jehan?"

"We're not going to get any answers until Enjolras shows up."

The back door flung open and Enjolras strode in, flames dancing across his shoulders.

"Enjolras, we're in public!" Joly cried.

"Who cares about that. I'm a red mage and I will not hide it any longer." He spat. "Where's Grantaire?"

"He's at the bar." Éponine chirped, "but.." Enjolras wasn't listening. He strode towards the other door with purpose.

Combeferre jumped up and blocked his path, matching his friends flaming stare with his cold gaze. "Enjolras what is going on? Explain yourself."

"I'm sick of it! Of the constant hiding and slinking around corners like were some wretched rats. After the debate last night I couldn't take it; I couldn't contain my power any longer. So I went to some abandoned shit hole and just let loose. And it felt great, just to be free for once." Enjolras said with a relieved smile on his face.

However it didn't last long before he turned dark and his expression soured. "But then Grantaire was there and I almost hit him." Enjolras was struggling for breath. "And then an enforcer came, some purple bitch...And she try to kill him! Just because he saw; because he was stumbling around in the dark. She sent her goons after him just for being normal."

The room stood in rapture at Enjolras' words. Combeferre sensed that there was something more but he didn't push it.

"So I killed her."

That resulted in a loud gasp. Joly looked as if he might faint.

"And I would do it again. I am tired of these laws. I am tired of hiding. No more will I stand by while our freedoms are limited. While our friends lives are threatened."

"But you killed her." Joly was not taking this well. Combeferre sympathized with him. It was quite hard to accept that their friend had committed such violence, although not entirely surprising.

"While the loss of her life is regrettable. She wouldn't have stopped until Grantaire was dead. I will not allow him to die because of a agreement made by elitist cowards three hundred years ago. I do not regret saving his life. If that is the price of Grantaire's life I will take it."

The strength of Enjolras' commitment to Grantaire was unanticipated. Combeferre knew how committed to fighting injustice Enjolras was, he hadn't expected the same passion to be extended to their cynic. Although, Courfeyrac would probably have a different interpretation of their leader's feelings. 

"Friendship aside." Combeferre said, "This is a very grave crime. Has there been any response from the Cities.?"

"Other than the dead lady no. But who cares of the Cities. Let them do what they want. I will no longer sit idly by to their madness. I will fight and I won't stop until we all our free."

"Then what are you suggesting Enjolras? That we prance around the world flaunting our magic."  
Combeferre said bitterly.

"Yes please." Bahorel chimed in.

"I'm suggesting we stage a revolution."

The room froze. Combeferre was frustrated. he needed time to think. He liked clear answers; plans with ordered steps. Enjolras was like an uncontrolled blaze setting sparks all over the place. Grant it, normally he was intense but today was wilder than ever. It would take a lot to direct his energy into an decent plan. But if he did, well maybe something good could come out of this. That was there schtick; Enjolras was the energy which inspired and drove the plan and Combeferre was the order which reigned in that energy into tactical moves. He could deal with this. Maybe.

He was about to unfreeze the room when a blue window opened up on the horizon. A window across time. These were rare occurrences, and often didn't bode well. He slowly stepped forward and peered through it.

The scene that graced him could only be described as nightmarish. He was standing atop the Red City which was being engulfed in flames while the Blue City burned in the distance. A large explosion erupted from his left and the western flank of the Yellow City collapse into itself, sending up a huge cloud of dust. Behind him an endless wall of darkness encroached casting the rest in shadow. The great tree atop the Green City was withered, its branches gnarled and bare.

He heard shouting from the level above him and made towards the stairs. As he ascended he past the mangled bodies of Éponine, Joly and Feuilly. His breath hitched in his throat. At the highest point Enjolras was kneeling over the body of Grantaire wailing heavy tears. A man stepped out of the shadows with a gun pointed at him.

"You failed Enjolras. All that effort, all that mindless destruction and you still can't save him."

"No! This is your fault. You said you'd save him."

"I said no such thing. You were so caught up in your quest for freedom that you were blind to reality, and now he's dead."

"No, it not true! Bring him back. Bring it all back like last time. Tell me what I have to do."

"You've already done more than enough. The era of magic is over, thanks to you."

Enjolras attempted to lunge at the man but was too weak and stumbled to the ground.

"My power... it's really gone..." Enjolras gasped staring at his hands. "It's actually over..What have we done?"

"Do you know the great thing about guns? They're real. You just pull the trigger and bam. No hocus pocus." The man cocked the gun and gave a devilish grin. "Enjoy being free Enjolras."

The gun fired and the window shut leaving Combeferre reeling in confusion as time resumed its motion.

What was he going to do? Enjolras was going to kill them all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I hate this chapter. it's all melodrama but it's important for setting up what happens next. Hopefully the next chapter wont take as long. It was my birthday recently and this got a little distracting.

Jehan 

Jehan slammed Enjolras against the alley wall. The other squirmed violently in his grasp, shooting fireballs into the air. He had to be careful with how he went about this. With the mood Enjolras was in there was a strong chance he could end up getting burned. 

"Talk Enjolras. What happened last night that you aren't telling us?"

Enjolras grunted and squirmed some more.

"I don't have time for your dramatics so I'll just cut to the chase. Why does Grantaire have a ball of Black Magic in his chest?"

Enjolras suddenly stopped his struggle, and with a burst of strength whipped Jehan against the wall. "Who else knows?" He said through frantic eyes.

"Just Éponine. Although, I'm sure Combeferre will notice shortly." Jehan said. Enjolras didn't look reassured. "Don't worry I know enough of the risks associated with Black Magic to go spreading gossip."

"Good. Keep it that way. No one can know."

"No shit. But What the fuck Enjolras! Black Magic! What did you get yourself into you beautiful fool?" Jehan shook himself free from Enjolras' grasp.

"I don't know!" Enjolras became limp and he collapsed into Jehan. This was quite a shock as Enjolras was not one for emotional breakdowns. Jehan could imagine their golden leader pushing it all down to uphold his resolute impassioned front. But now he was cracking as one who had just gone through a hell of a night rightly should. "I just wanted to be free, you know? But then Grantaire and...Oh man, I killed someone!" He cried, sending wet tears into Jehan's shirt. 

"It's alright." Jehan cooed, "You were just protecting Grantaire."

"But I didn't...." Enjolras was in complete hysterics now.

Jehan engulfed him in a warm supportive embrace."I know."

"He..he was just lying there cold and lifeless....and the eyes...his face.. why did they look like that? Why did he look so peaceful?" 

"I can't say. I imagine though that it must be a most wonderful experience to witness one's dreams come true before our eyes." Jehan thought about the flaming angel that lit up Grantaire's mind night after night. "But at present Grantaire is alive, with a vortex of Black Magic in place of his heart. I would like to know how? You haven't been learning Black Magic behind my back, have you?"

"No no." Enjolras lightened up a little bit. "I don't really remember... but in the aftermath of the fight a man appeared. He brought Grantaire back."

"How? Why? What kind of sketchbag just waltzes around casting Black Magic and bringing people back from the dead?"

"I don't know. He said he was a fan and then he did some wooshy voodoo, stole my blood and then Grantaire was breathing and he left and it was all just crazy and am I breathing right now?"

"Stole your blood?!" This did not help Enjolras who was becoming manic again. "I mean breathe Enjolras. Take a deep breath and tell me what you mean when you say he stole your blood."

"It was part of the spell. I don't remember all that much Jehan, it was really overwhelming."

"I get that. Oh man I'm sorry, you've just been through a lot and I'm getting all on your case. How is our sun king holding out?"

"Please don't call me that." Enjolras took a big sigh. "I'm done Jehan. I've spent my whole life running and hiding from all the injustices of the world and look where that got me. Grantaire died. I will not sit still while the lives of my friends are threatened. I can't turn back now; I just killed an enforcer for goodness sake. No, it's time to take action. You get that don't you?"

"Of course I get that. There is nothing more beautiful or important than the lives of our friends. And this has always been your dream. I would gladly stand by you to make that happen. Not to mention that they killed Grantaire. This is personal. But that is my concern right now. Grantaire may be breathing and talking and drinking but Black Magic is banned for a reason; it's sketchy as shit. We need to know exactly what happened last night."

"I'd love too, but the details are foggy."

"Well that doesn't mean that their gone. Dreams have ways of accessing memories that are out of reach from our consciousness. Do you mind?"

"At this point, whatever."

Jehan placed his hands on Enjolras' temples and he instantly went to sleep. He gently lay Enjolras' limp body on the ground as white tendrils of mist creeped through the alley transporting them to Enjolras' dreams.

Their golden leader was crouched over Grantaire's body. 

"Well that's not something you see every day." Out of the shadows strutted a lean man in formal attire. Jehan studied his appearance for any sign of foul play.

 

"You sure know how to put on a show." The man said, now standing over Enjolras' shoulder, "I guess I shouldn't have expected any less from the family of the Red Throne. You lot have always had a flair for murder, although hasn't that traditionally occurred in house."

Enjolras whipped around in response to the jab sending a ball a fire at the man. However the man quickly dissolved into the shadows before the ball could hit its target.

"A black mage!" Enjolras gasped.

"Temper temper." The man appeared from the other side of the quarry, "You red mages are always so quick to attack what exists outside the light."

"You're supposed to be extinct." Enjolras spat, "What are you doing here?"

"Now is that anyway to talk to a fan." The man said menacingly.

"A fan of what?" Enjolras barked back

"Of destruction." He smiled slyly before teleporting to Enjolras' side and running his fingers down his arm, "You see, you and I share a lot in common. We both want to see the end of the magical order that messes up all our fun and keeps us from being free. But while we share this dream, your magic is much more apt at destroying things than my own. Just look what it did to my brethren."

"They brought it upon themselves."

"Is that a really fair portrayal? We were being massacred. The Black Death only happened because our friends and family were being hunted and killed. Not so different from your current situation if you ask me."

"Well no one asked you, did they? Why are you really here?"

"To offer my condolences," The man glanced over at Grantaire's body, "And my support."

Enjolras raised his eyebrow and intensified his glare.

"You can save him." The man said, "There is still time. His spirit hasn't fully passed over yet."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you can bring him back. Funny thing about Black Magic, people think it's all about death when really it's about the void; the absence of everything including death."

"You're serious?" Emotion began to flood into Enjolras' face. "You can undo it all? You can bring him back?"

"No you can. I can just summon the void. The void will need something to stabilize it so it doesn't consume him."

"Okay then what can I do?"

"I'm glad that you asked." The man flipped out a knife and cut across Enjolras hand. Jehan almost screamed out of shock. "It'll need your blood." 

Enjolras made to protest but the man just elbowed him and dragged him over to Grantaire's empty frame. "Do you want to save your friend or not?"

"Yes. " Enjolras meekly made out.

"Then shut up and do as I say." The man waved a hand over the hole in Grantaire's chest leaving behind a dark ooze. "Now quickly add your blood." The man shouted.

Enjolras did as he said letting his blood drip into the ooze. With each drop the ooze began to spiral until it resemble the raging vortex that Jehan had seen earlier.

Everyone waited in anticipation. Eventually Grantaire let out a small gasp and his chest began to slowly rise and fall.

"You did it!" Enjolras cried, "Oh my God he's alive!"

"No you did it." The man emphasized, "Now take care of him. He'll need more of your blood every so often or else he'll disappear into the void."

"Yes no problem. Thank you. How can I repay you?"

"I already told you. I'm a big fan. Just keep doing what you're doing and maybe one day you'll achieve our dream of a world free of restrictions."

The man once more dissapperated leaving Enjolras and Grantaire alone. Jehan gave the shadows one long hard stare before exiting the dream and waking Enjolras up. 

"Oh my!" Jehan exclaimed, "You weren't kidding about the eyes. Grantaire was really dead."

"Yeah I definitely don't need to see that again. It's already been haunting my thoughts."

"I'm sorry. We didn't have to."

"No we did. I haven't been myself since it happened. My fire's grown dim. My energy hasn't known where to go. It's just been buzzing chaotically inside me. I've just made some drastic life-altering decisions. It's good to at last have some clarity with what happened. Now maybe I can move forward." Enjolras suddenly faltered, "I did the right thing didn't I?"

"Who knows? Morality is a thick mire of rights and wrongs. As we wade through it can we mortals really scoop up a handful of muck and declare that we have the truth?" Enjolras seemed confused, he was getting too philosophical, "But I would have done it; or at least tried. You brought life back into Grantaire, one of my closest friends. You're taking a stand for all of us, providing a stable footing for us to hold on to. The gods may judge us to be wrong but what do they know of love and friendship. Is there even room on their lofty mountains for us. I'd rather stand in the swamp with you as my leader any day."

"Jehan, I rarely understand the things that you say. They are too full of beauty and metaphor. But I value your support dearly, especially now as I stand on the precipice about to take a leap in a new direction." He stood up straight and wiped the tears from his eyes. Jehan admired Enjolras' strength, "Now I just have to convince the rest of them. Will you lend me your voice to open their hearts and minds to my cause?"

"To do that requires words more of your mastery. I have seen you set even the darkest hearts on fire. I lend you my support but I must first make sure my foolish roommate is here to stay. There is something shady about this black mage and I want to do a little digging to find out what exactly. For Grantaire's sake."

"For Grantaire's sake..." Enjolras mouthed lost in thought. "Well then. Thanks for the help. Do let me know if you find anything or need any help."

He pulled Jehan into a surprisingly deep hug before marching back into the bar.

Jehan watched him go as a fond smile stretched over his features. Once out of sight he rushed back to his home and the sanctity of his room. The musky scent of incense welcomed into his bed. He crawled under the pile of pillows and stuffed animals and drifted into sleep. His mind set on the black vortex in Grantaire's chest and all the darkness that lay behind it.

 

Grantaire

When Enjolras strutted back into the room his atmosphere had changed. It was warmer and lacked the chaotic bite of earlier. He was calmer and more determined, and his eyes were set directly on Grantaire.

If Grantaire still had a heart it would be banging violently against his chest. However, he didn't have a heart as it was most likely lying in the dirt being pecked at by a crow. He was heartless now. The living dead, like a zombie, although as of yet he hadn't developed a taste for brains. He wasn't even sure if his blood was flowing. Everything was cold except his Apollo and his burning stare. The wound ached at the sight of him, desperately trying to draw his warmth into its spiraling abyss.

He had been anticipating seeing Enjolras all day. Both out of fear and adoration. He was no fool. He knew he had died last night and that Enjolras had somehow brought him back to life and then took him back home to care for. Grantaire's mind couldn't handle the prospects of what that all meant. It was bad enough that he had woke up in Enjolras bed, the fact that Enjolras had for some reason raised him from the dead was too much. Grantaire wanted answers but he was afraid of what he would find.

"Friends" Enjolras began. Grantaire swallowed hard. "I must apologize for my earlier behaviour. The past 24 hours have been frankly the worst of my life and I haven't been dealing with it well. So I apologize for coming across as overly wild and probably a little bit crazy. I imagine that crazy circumstances bring out the insane in all of us."

The room was completely silent, everyone was intensely listening to every word. Enjolras may be able to shoot fire from his fingers but in Grantaire's eyes the real magic of him was the way he could trap people with his words. With the slightest raise in tone he could hold on to them and bend them to whatever cause he was pursuing.

"But I must ask." He continued, " What is Grantaire to you?" 

Grantaire grimaced. All eyes turned to him What was his Apollo doing now?

"Is he just some normie to you? A drinking buddy? A debate partner? A friend? I must admit that often he is a massive thorn in my side, but no matter what, I can guarantee you that he is one of us."

If he wasn't so obsessed with Enjolras he probably would have punched him, even so Grantaire felt inclined to pass out.

"Brothers, within these walls we have created something wholly unique and beautiful. We have gathered a ragtag group of degenerates and outcasts and created a community. In all honesty you guys have become far more of a family to me than the fools I left in the Magic Realm."

A friendly smile wafted through the group. Enjolras was being unusually candid and sentimental. He never mentioned his family, although no one really did. It was kind of an unsaid thing that family off limits for discussion. Jehan's romanticism must have rubbed off on him. Whatever, Grantaire shared the sentiment or at least he thought he still did. Despite all the lies these guys were his friends. Right? Anyways they were better company than his shit hole parents and way better drinkers. So that counted for something. 

"I have always debated and argued about the structures that persecute us, that trap us here in these dismal half lives. Without all of you I'm sure not even Combeferre would have been able to stop me from doing something stupid and rash. But then last night those structures very nearly ripped one of you from our family. Years of thinking, talking and arguing about freedom were useless when Grantaire was being attacked. The time for talking has past, it is time to take our destiny into our own hands. A new world is dawning, by rising to meet it we can finally end the darkness cast by the Salem Concordat. We can begin anew, we can begin to live in freedom." 

The light in Enjolras' eyes was literally blinding. Grantaire could omit from all the hope in the room.

"I realize that some of you have qualms about what I have done and about what I'm proposing."

Enjolras was clearly directing his speech now at Combeferre, his closest friend and loudest detractor.

"I'm not asking you to make the same decisions or even to walk with me as I go forward. This is my dream, and nothing will stop me from moving towards it. It may be stupid and rash but it's my stupid and rash. I am tired of giving up my agency, I am weary of inaction. I will not be silenced. Not anymore."

Enjolras had finished his speech and the room descended deep into thought. He had worked his magic once again. Despite their qualms everyone would be on board now. Even Combeferre. Enjolras was now going to lead them all in some half assed revolution. Normally this silence would be Grantaire's cue to enter with some cynical remark but he didn't feel much like speaking. For all Enjolras talk of a new dawn, a new beginning, Grantaire couldn't help think that something had ended. The peace of their camaraderie was over. There would be no more relaxing nights at the bar after tonight. And worst of all he was the tool that made it happen. Grantaire crawled out of Éponine's lap and stumbled to the bar well aware of the burning eyes that followed. He didn't care, he wanted one last drink.

They must have decided on a course of action as it was almost an hour before they emerged from the back room. Their eyes were alight with Enjolras' flame as they marched determinedly past. No one bothered to say goodnight except Éponine who kissed him on the forehead and whispered that she'd check in on him tomorrow.

Grantaire was about to follow them out of the Musain when a burning hand gripped on to his shoulder.

"Wait." Enjolras said, "I would like to speak with you."

"Well then speak. I'm amazed you have words left in you." Grantaire snarked, he decided that he didn't want to hear Enjolras speak after all.

"Calm your drunkenness Grantaire. I'm not here to fight. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Aw crap more sentimentality. This was not okay. Enjolras was not allowed to care about him. "When did my well being become a matter of your concern?"

"It became my concern when you died in front of me."

"Oh yes how could I forget. A demon ripped my heart out. And yet I'm still here. Care to explain?"

"I had some help. It's not important."

"No you're right. The swirling piece of Black Magic in my chest is not important."

"How did you know it was Black Magic?"

"What do you mean? Were you planning on keeping me in the dark again? Do you get off withholding information from me?"

"What? No!" Enjolras was getting mad. He had done his job, things felt more normal again. "Fine. If you want to know the truth, a black mage came after I avenged your death and used my blood to bring you back to life. The vortex inside you keeps the death at bay..."

"Avenged my death?" Grantaire interrupted, "Is this some kind of fairy tale to you? Am I just a tool in your story? A plot point that incites pity so you can rally the hearts of others."

"You're not listening. Don't you want to know what happened?"

"I don't give a fuck what happened. I want to know why. Why'd you do it Apollo? You should have just let me die. It would have served your purposes just as well."

"My purposes? What good to me are you dead? Didn't you hear my speech? You're like family."

"Fuck you Enjolras! I heard your speech. How dare you use me like that?"

"Why are you mad at me I brought you back. I save your life. I'm doing all of this for you."

"No you're not. You're doing this for yourself. I didn't ask for this. For someone whose all about freedom and agency you sure don't give a fuck about mine. I wished you had just let me stay dead. Why did you have to bring me back to the torturous glare of your presence?"

Grantaire began to storm off. He knew he'd regret these words later but he just needed some normalcy in the chaos that had just unfolded in front of him. And they was nothing more normal than having Enjolras hate him. He wasn't lying when he said this was torture. Enjolras was not allowed to be nice to him, and everything he was doing and saying right now was ripping apart Grantaire's insides. At least what remained of them.

"Come back you fool." Enjolras called after him, "You need me to stay alive."

"Ha!" If only Enjolras understood the true meaning of what he had just said, "I don't need you to save me. I've been doing fine without you my whole life."

"I'm not kidding you need my blood to survive. Come back before I lose you again." Enjolras seemed to be genuinely pleading with him. It was awful.

"You don't own me Enjolras. You never have. I'm not a thing at the mercy of your whimsy. I'm just a man, a sad drunk man." Grantaire took a deep breath, "And even if what you say is true. I'd gladly die again than spend a minute more melting in your suffocating heat."

He was gone before Enjolras could respond. The night was cold and biting. He cried all the way home. And for the first time since meeting Enjolras, Grantaire didn't dream. Or if he did it was only of endless darkness.

 

Enjolras

Enjolras had a terrible sleep. He dreamt of Grantaire dying over and over again. The light periodically waning from his eyes. He woke up shivering, his bed cold where Grantaire had slept the night before. He called Éponine this morning and after some cursing had convinced her to check up on Grantaire for him. He just needed to know that he was still breathing.

Why was Grantaire affecting him so? It was as if watching Grantaire die had unlocked something inside him that wouldn't go away. 

He didn't have time for these feelings. He had a revolution to plan. The others had agreed to help, even Combeferre despite his reservations. They had decided to crash the annual pride parade at the end of the month as it was probably the biggest event in the city. With the whole country watching there would be too many normal people in the know for the Cities or the Bagne to do anything.

It sent chills through his spine, the fact that they were finally doing something. A tidal wave of energy was now unleashed that he had been holding back for years. The excitement of it all slowly washing away any bad dreams and fears he had of Grantaire.

He decided to make himself a huge brunch in celebration.

He set out later that afternoon to meet with the others to work out more details. He was in a good mood after a day of preplanning and he was wearing his favourite red jacket. The sun was beating down casting everything in the golden glow of summer. Everything was perfect. Except for Grantaire of course, but those thoughts were being locked away deep in the recesses of his mind.

His phone beeped. He flipped it out to see a message from Combeferre.

"Where are you? Hurry."

He quickly typed back "Near Spadina and Queen. Be five minutes." before entering into a brisk walk.

A minute later his phone beeped again.

"Get here ASAP. Looks like the Cities saw your late night escapades and aren't too happy about it."

"Aw fuck!" Enjolras cursed under his breath. Not that he was all that surprised; he knew the Watchers would see. He just wasn't looking forward to dealing with this.

"What do you mean?" he sent before sprinting across Dundas ignoring the stop light. A car nearly hit him but he melted the tires into the road causing it's occupant to slam into the steering wheel. He ran down the street weaving through Chinese vendors and throngs of tourists. As he turned down the alley that led o the Musain his phone beeped once more.

"Your cousin is here." He read as he burst into the bar.

"Fuck!" Marius was standing there with Grantaire held tightly in the grasp of his bodyguards.

"FUUUCKK!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN...enter Marius...what a tool. I mean I love him. 
> 
> Feel free to comment if you have questions. Also check out Dreamwalker Lore which explains a lot of the mechanics of the world this story takes place in.


End file.
